Redemption
by angelinatrenchcoat
Summary: He promised he would redeem himself. Destiel fluff, one-shot, set after 7x10. Characters might be slightly OOC


This was written in 2 in the morning, so I apologize if it's awful. The latest Supernatural episode left me depressed (when does it not?), and apparently the only way to cheer up was to write some non-realistic Destiel fluff.

Warning: slight spoilers for 7x10 (but if you're a part of this fandom, then you probably know what happens to Bobby anyway)  
>Disclaimer: if I owned Supernatural, I'd be writing the script, not a FF story. And Sera Gamble would be fired.<p>

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><p>The drawn out beep of the EKG seemed to ring endlessly in Dean's ears as he stared in horror at the nurses and doctors rushing around, giving instructions to each other, and working over a still, lifeless body. He felt Sam gripping his arm, and he wasn't sure if he was holding his younger brother up, or if it was the other way around. Deep down, he knew Sam could be stronger than him at times like this; Dean could put on a tough exterior very well, but inside, he was crushed and broken, unable to handle the constant stream of tragedies that chased him his whole life.<p>

This, the commotion occurring in front of him, was the last straw. He could almost see the last shreds of hope to which he'd been holding leave his body, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell that couldn't think, couldn't speak, couldn't feel. It drained out of him, along with the little energy he had. The sound of the EKG's flat tone continued to drown out every other noise, even the sound of the nurses yelling and the electric paddles sending shocks through Bobby's chest in a futile attempt to restart his silent heart. The tone seemed to almost grow louder, and Dean suddenly found himself wishing they'd shut the machine off. It was an irrational thought, because the doctor had to know if Bobby's heart began to beat again, but it was just so _loud_. Too loud, way too loud…

"Dean," Sam whispered. Something was off about his voice. Dean forced himself to look away from the hospital staff and Bobby's motionless body for just a moment, just long enough to glance at his brother and see the astonished and awed look on the younger man's face.

The constant beep continued to increase in volume. Sam's hold got tighter on Dean's arm, almost cutting off the circulation. Dean, an unexplainable feeling rising in his gut, looked at the flurry of action, the workers, Bobby, the machine, the machine that was humming and ringing and _just so loud._ The people swarmed in front of his eyes, going in and out of focus, and the noise—the noise finally became too much. Dean gripped the sides of his head, covering his ears with his hands and falling to his knees. He felt Sam brush against him, and saw that his brother was knelt over too, shutting his eyes as if it pained him to look at anything. Dean glanced around, eyes moving frantically, heart racing, panic and confusion coursing through him like fire. The room was abruptly ten times brighter, and the noise was steadily increasing. Squinting, Dean could see that the nurses and doctors weren't reacting to the light or the ringing; in fact, they were still, not moving or working or anything. Dean wanted to scream, to demand they keep working on Bobby until his heart was beating again, but he couldn't find his voice. He was sure the clamor would drown it out anyway.

Suddenly, something was pulling him to his feet; not something physical, but an urge to move. He still had his ears covered, and he still strained to see through the harsh light, but he walked forward anyway, unsteady on his shaking legs. He made it to the edge of Bobby's hospital bed and had to use his hands to catch himself from falling into it when he stumbled. The ringing pierced through his mind, and he doubled over in pain, gripping the side of the bed with all his strength. He couldn't think, couldn't figure out what was going on; even his hunter instincts couldn't prepare him for this. His whole body felt as if it was on fire as the blazing light filled the room with a suffocating presence.

Then, just as he felt like he might be blinded and deafened and burned alive all at the same time, it stopped.

The ringing was gone. The light was gone. The heat was gone. Everything was drawn back, leaving Dean surrounded by an eerie silence. Upon opening his eyes, Dean saw nothing at first; slowly, the room came into view. Bobby, lying comatose on the bed; the hospital workers, not only unresponsive to what had happened but actually not moving at all; Sam, curled up on the floor, covering his head with his arms. Dean watched his brother for a while, expecting him to get up when he noticed that the noise and the light were gone, but he didn't move; Dean realized that Sam, too, was frozen in place.

That's when the feeling started. It crept through Dean's entire body, right down to his battered and scarred soul. It made the hairs on his neck stand on end and his muscles tense automatically. It was the feeling that someone was in the room watching him, someone who was not there just five seconds ago.

Slowly, cautiously, he turned around, preparing for the absolute worst. Yet, the one he saw standing there was anyone but the 'worst'.

Silence seemed to stretch between the two for an eternity. Dean blinked, blinked again, rubbed his eyes, and even pinched himself on the lower part of his arm, where it hurt the most. The scene didn't change, and he didn't wake up from any kind of dream. What he was seeing, the person in front of him, couldn't be a product Dean's imagination. Still, there was only one way for him to know for sure he wasn't hallucinating.

Closing the distance in two seconds, Dean grabbed Castiel's hands with his own, picking them up then letting them drop back to the angel's sides. His hands roamed over Cas's face, squeezed Cas's shoulders, gently raked through Cas's messy hair. No, Dean was definitely not dreaming.

"Cas…" Dean almost choked, the name sounding strange and wonderful on his lips. He decided it was possibly the most beautiful name in the world. "Cas. You're really here."

"Hello, Dean," the angel replied, his rough voice exactly the same as Dean had remembered. His blue eyes seemed guarded, like he was holding something back. "I have returned."

"For good?" Dean was almost panicky again, realizing that this might not be permanent. "You're staying, right?"

"Yes, I am."

"And you're okay? You're really… you?"

"Yes. The leviathans have left this vessel. Well, actually, I took it from them."

Normally, Dean wouldn't accept that until he'd proven it himself, but he was too overwhelmed by the fact that the angel—_his_ angel—was back, unharmed, and _alive_…

"Cas," Dean said suddenly, his thoughts frantic and scattered. "Bobby… he was shot."

"I know." Cas stepped around Dean, looking at the body on the hospital bed. "Stand back. I will fix this. As I told you before," he pinned Dean with an apologetic but determined look, "I will redeem myself to you."

Before Dean could speak another word, Cas pressed his hand to the gunshot wound on Bobby's head. A small light began to glow there, and it slowly spread. Dean shut his eyes, although this light was softer than the last one. He felt the air moving around him, and suddenly a hand slipped into his, holding on tightly. Dean gripped it as if his life depended on it.

The light grew for a few seconds, and a slight wind picked up; then it all stopped, just like before. The light dimmed down, the breeze swirling around him was gone, replaced by a calm and relatively normal atmosphere. Dean opened his eyes to see a simple motel room. Cas was standing in front of him, their hands still linked together. Bobby was lying on one of the two twin beds in the room, and Sam was sitting in a chair against a wall, apparently asleep. The hospital, the doctors, and the machines were all gone.

"We're in the same town. Just a few roads over from the hospital," Cas said, as if he'd been reading Dean's thoughts. "Your names have been wiped from the hospital's records, and the staff will have no recollection of any of us ever being there. Sam is fine; I just put him in a light sleep for the time being, until we can get this situation sorted out. And Bobby…" the angel glanced over his shoulder at the old hunter, lying peacefully on the bed. "Bobby will be fine when he wakes up, too."

Dean listened to every word Cas said, then became silent for a long time. Castiel watched him, still holding Dean's hand, his eyes still slightly guarded. To the angel's dismay, Dean dropped his hand, beginning a quick pace back and forth across the floor of the motel.

"So… what you're telling me is that you're back—" Dean stopped, waiting until Cas gave a small nod before he continued. "—and Sam and Bobby are fine—" Another nod. "—and there's not a catch in any of this?"

"Well, I have a lot of things I want to talk to you about… all three of you." Cas looked apologetic, remembering what he'd done in the months leading to his downfall. "But, you're right, there's not a 'catch'."

"No more leviathan takeovers?"

"No."

"No more demon deals?"

"Definitely not."

Dean stared at Cas for a long time, to the point that the angel almost felt uncomfortable. He now realized why Dean had been so adamant about 'personal space' and things of the sort when Cas had first joined up with the Winchesters. There was something unnerving about someone staring into your eyes as if they could read your every thought…

"Is there something else, Cas?" Dean asked softly.

Castiel looked down, his blue eyes fixed on the carpet. "It's just a thought I had back then, during my last moments, before I realized the leviathans were still inside me. When I thought that I was free from the power of the souls." He stopped for a moment, wondering if he should continue, but Dean's eager look prodded him on. "I thought, for a split second, that I was free. That _we_ were free. I knew I'd rebelled, that I'd done a lot of bad things, and that I would probably Fall for it. But it was for us, and it was worth it, because Raphael was gone, and the Apocalypse was over…" Realizing he was rambling—something he'd never remembered doing before, which scared him a little—he cleared his throat. "I just had a moment of clarity. My priorities shifted, and I realized the most important thing."

Cas lifted his eyes to meet Dean's, and he noticed that the distance between them seemed to have gotten shorter. "I realized that as soon as we were out of there, as soon as we had dealt with Sam and had a moment to relax, I would tell you…"

"Tell me what, Cas?" Dean urged, though his shining eyes seemed to show that he already knew what the angel was going to say.

"I would tell you how much you mean to me. I would tell you how sorry I was for saying what I said to you. I would—"

Cas was cut off by Dean's lips on his own. It was a short kiss, but gentle, and held the promise of many more to follow. "You don't have to apologize, Cas. I did a lot of thinking, after you… you know. And I realized how much of a dick I was…"

"No, Dean. You shouldn't have to apologize to me. What I did was wrong."

A short silence, then Dean laughed, really _laughed_, for the first time in forever. "Well then, let's just agree to disagree, okay?"

It seemed like a simple solution, so Cas nodded, before leaning in and kissing Dean again, just because he could.

They stood for a while in silence, just looking at each other. Occasionally Dean's fingers would brush along Cas's jaw, or Cas would place his hand on the scar on Dean's shoulder, the scar that would always serve as a reminder that although they'd been through the worst situations, they'd always made it through.

After a while, a small groan from the bed made Dean and Cas jerk apart a little. Their eyes met briefly, and they both silently agreed that there was a more pressing issue at hand for now; they could talk about personal things later.

Both Bobby and Sam were waking up, stretching and yawning and rubbing their eyes, as if it was just another day. Sam was the first to notice that his surroundings weren't right, and he leaped up, looking around the room, to Bobby, to Dean, then to Cas. Finally, he blinked over and over before pinching himself on the arm, like Dean had done at the hospital. Meanwhile, Bobby was sitting up slowly, just staring blankly at the wall. Then he saw Sam, Dean, and Cas, all alive and well, standing around his bed. "Balls," he said. "I'm dead, aren't I?"

"No, Bobby. You're alive." Dean grinned, moving towards the bed and clapping the older hunter on the shoulder. "You made it."

"Uh, Dean, what's going on?" Sam asked, staring at Cas like he had two heads.

Cas and Dean looked at each other, and both smiled at the same time. "Let me explain," Cas said, and then he began the story.

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><p>Aaaand... there's your anti-climatic ending. Thanks for reading, and even if you didn't like it, <em>please<em> review! Give your honest opinion; I won't be insulted, lol.

(This was also uploaded to my tumblr account; the link is on my profile)

**Update:** Did you guys hear? **_MISHA'S COMING BACK TO SUPERNATURAL!_** Episode 7x17! I'm SO excited! :D


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